Temporal Leap: Incipiens
by Warhammer 2-4
Summary: Death. Not so simple, is it? For some insane reason, forces and powers beyond my comprehension decided that I could bear the responsibility of being transported to the Mass Effect universe and using my foreknowledge of the games to alter the course of the Reaper War. Might as well give it my best shot. Self-insert.
1. The Initiate

_Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect and its related characters, setting, content, etc. That honor belongs to Bioware._

* * *

The bō staff. A long stick - two meters of solid oak, tapered at the ends and held at the center. An ancient weapon dating back to feudal Japan - simple yet formidable.

I gripped the staff firmly and looked across at my opponent, my face expressionless. He held a similar weapon, and was returning the blank look with some trepidation. The top end of his staff twitched, advertising his intention. I pretended not to notice, anticipating the next few seconds.

He made his move, and I responded.

He lunged, thrusting the tip forward in a jab. I swept my staff inward, deflecting the strike to the side. Simultaneously, my leg came up and exploded into a perfect side kick, which I stopped just short of contact. I used my position to add a roundhouse kick towards the temple, which he ducked - just in time to come up and meet my own jab, aimed right between his eyes. He froze in shock, my staff an inch from his face.

One block and three strikes. Engagement over within four seconds.

_Not bad._

He sighed in defeat, and we both relaxed, returning our weapons to the sidelines.

"Better." I said, not unkindly. "But again, you showed me what you were going to do before you actually did it. You need to be aware of what your body is doing at all times."

"You're a Second Dan black belt," he sighed, "I'm just a red belt."

"Keep thinking that way and you're already lost." I replied. "Rank isn't the final determinant of skill. Experience and practice are. And as you get more of both, you're bound to improve."

"You think so?" he asked hopefully.

"You definitely have the potential to." I said. He looked a little happier as class ended and we were dismissed.

Soon, I had packed my uniform in a backpack and was outside unlocking my bike. I tightened the strap on my helmet and rode off.

The wind stung my cheeks as I peddled on through the night. I lowered my head to shield my eyes and rode on, silhouetted by the roadside lamps. Cars whizzed by and stopped a hundred meters down the road. Traffic lights coming up - an intersection. I slowly squeezed the brakes. Nothing happened. My eyes widened, and I pressed harder. No response. I prepared to bail, but was too late to stop myself from shooting off the sidewalk. I gave up on the brakes and peddled harder in an attempt to get off the crosswalk ASAP. Quickly, I looked to my right, and time seemed to slow as I caught a glimpse of two blinding lights careening towards me at breakneck speed.

There was a piercing pain, a horrifically loud screech, and then there was nothing.

* * *

Darkness. Not the kind you get when you turn off your lights and the moon is shining in through the windows, or when you close your eyes and there's still some light filtering through the lids, but the real kind. Absolute, all-encompassing, and uniform in its emptiness. Outer space - without the stars.

I found myself drifting in the middle of it all, slightly shocked, slightly panicked, and very, very confused.

_Holy shit. What the fuck? Where am I? Can't see anything. Crap. Can't feel my body either. Where are my limbs?! How I am in this state in the first place.. What the hell is-_

A feminine voice jarred me out of my train of thought, echoing all around me. "Sorry," it sighed, "the processors are running a bit slow today. We haven't had a case like yours in a while."

_Processors? Case? And voices in my head. Now I know I'm going insane. This has gotta be some kind of trippy dream sequence. Or a sick, twisted version of the Twilight Zone. And it's still dark. Damn._

"You haven't lost your marbles," the voice said, "although I understand why you might - and the system's finally online. Twenty-Seven, run the projection."

Another voice - this one synthesized - spoke. "Acknowledged. Initiating."

The black around me abruptly changed to a blinding white that gradually died away to reveal a semi-lit squarish room. A woman was sitting in front of me, a L-shaped clear glass desk between us. Red hair, blue eyes, about 5'4 by my initial estimate, dressed in a black suit. I was also sitting down - _when did that happen? And huh, I have a body again... _- and surrounding us were several computer monitors, including one on her desk. A floor-to-ceiling window on my left treated me to a stunning view of a snow-capped mountain range that was wreathed in golden rings of mist. As I looked around in astonishment, the woman entered a few more things into a holographic interface, then turned to me and cleared her throat.

I scratched my head._ Feels real enough._ "Um, hi...?"

She cocked her head to one side. "Hello, Alex Zheng."

"You know who I am?"

"Yes, I do." she said matter-of-factly.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. _Calm yourself. You're...somewhere. And you have no idea what in the world that "somewhere" is. Think logically. Gather information. One step at a time._ "Okay," I looked up again. "I'm clearly out of my depth here. So who are you, what is this place, and why the hell I am I here?"

She nodded approvingly. "Pragmatic, I see. Most of my cases aren't so calm about this." Clasping her hands together, she leaned forward. "Welcome to The Realm. I'm Aeshia, and I'm Supervisor of the Post-Mortem Processing Office, Special Cases Division." With that, she began typing in commands.

_Post-Mortem…_"Wait, does that mean-" I began.

"Yes." She adjusted her computer so I could see the screen. "Which answers your third question."

_Oh, no…_

"You're here in the Realm because you're dead." Aeshia said simply, and tapped a button. A grainy recording came into view...

* * *

**An ambulance tore around the corner and screeched to a halt in front of the grim scene. A gray Ford pickup, its front fender slightly bent. A swaying college-aged male, clearly drunk. A younger girl, leaning on the hood and looking faint. A silver bike, mangled and wrecked beyond repair. And the beaten, bleeding body of a second boy, bent in such a way that precluded any possibility of survival. [Shit, that's….that's my body!] He did not move.**

**The paramedics knelt over the inert form and checked for vitals. It was a formality at best - the truth was obvious to all present. They returned with a body bag, put me inside, and sealed it shut.**

* * *

_Well, shit. That certainly wasn't the...most pleasant way to go._

_Life is a very twisted and very confusing entity. Given everything that's happened and is happening to me, I think I'm pretty qualified to say that._

_Well, technically I'm dead now, but the principle still applies._

There had to be at least twenty different thoughts and emotions warring for dominance in that moment, but I pushed them to the side. _Introspection later, gather information now._

"Ok," I said, swallowing a lump in my throat, "I'm dead. So what happens now? Is this some kind of afterlife…? Am I about to be eternally judged for the life I've led…? Lay it on me."

Aeshia shook her head. "Not quite as you humans understand it, with your hundreds of religions that none of you can agree on." _That was a definite eyeroll._ "Your profile says you hold generally atheistic-agnostic beliefs, though, so I suppose for you, this whole explanation thing might be a bit easier to wrap your head around."

"I have a profile, huh?" I muttered, arching an eyebrow.

"We like to keep tabs on these things." she responded. "It helps to know who you're dealing with. Anyway, the easiest way to describe The Realm is probably as a different...plane of existence. It deals with existential processes that transcend the physical. The Protheans for example, with their collective memories and ability to transfer experiences and ideas. Or the Thorian, possessing and controlling its thralls. Now,-"

"Woah woah woah - wait a second!" I exclaimed. "Protheans? Thorian? You're talking about...about the…"

"The Mass Effect universe?"

"Yeah...talking as if it actually exists."

"It does."

There was a very long pause while my brain rebooted. "You're shitting me."

"Nope." Aeshia shot a small smirk at me.

"But it's a videogame!" I spluttered. "Hell, it's about as close to art as a game can get, but it's still just virtual!"

"In your universe, that would be true. But yours is only one of many possible universes that are in existence at the moment. There are a lot more besides your own, the Mass Effect universe included. The Realm serves as the command center for all of them. It's complicated," she added unnecessarily, seeing the dumbfounded expression on my face.

"I...you know what, forget it. I'm not even going to try to understand this right now, lest I get multiple aneurysms. I'll deal with it later." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Ok, so...why am I, as you put it, a 'special case'?"

"Well," she sighed, "for the most part, the people who think that the personality and soul die with the body are correct. The dead are dead. A sleep without end. Thank heavens for that, I say. Any eternal afterlife would be like a condemnation to hell - boredom forever. I know you've thought much the same."

I snorted. "Well, I'm glad that's the case. But then - why am I here talking to you if that's the way it is?"

"I'm getting to it, Alex," she said patiently. "You'll get your answers. Now, on occasion and with certain individuals, we pull an intervention. People with specific backgrounds, traits, certain qualities. We bring them here if we have a situation that that particular person has a potential to change, being the person they are. You're one of them."

_Well, this isn't what I expected._ "Why me?"

She regarded me appraisingly. "Several reasons. First off, you're quite introspective. You think about a great many things, and go into pretty good depth when you do. That helps you be clear and honest with yourself on many important aspects. Morality and ethics, your personal faults, philosophy, an understanding of the implications that new events bring, and so on. It keeps you on the straight and narrow, even when things get tough. However, you also have the presence of mind to be pragmatic when you have to. You'll do what you have to, even if people don't always like it. You despise conflict and all its inhumanity, but you accept it as an unpleasant necessity and something to be prepared for. Often, you look at the world through the lens of a cynicist or a realist, but deep down, you still fly the flag of optimism because ultimately, you want the best for others. It's quite admirable, and a rare combination these days."

_Wow. That's actually pretty accurate. I could have said it myself._ "What else?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Aeshia smiled, a bit sadly. "You're not without your faults, Alex. No one is. As I understand, your early teenage years were...turbulent. Left you...emotionally stunted. Scarred."

"You could say that." I mumbled, and looked at the floor.

_Ugh. That time._ An initial discovery of some of my dad's emails had subsequently triggered a long, painful series of events. The messages documented in intimate detail accounts of his infidelity, and shocked, I had turned to my 'friends' for consolation. At the same time, I had had the misfortune to fall really hard for a girl who I knew. Given my mental state at the time, people had thought I was creepy and unstable, and I was pretty much abandoned. My most vivid memory of one my most trusted friends had been of her shouting "Don't talk to me!" and dashing away in response to a simple request for a bus ticket.

After that, things went downhill and I spiraled into a deep depression. Several times, I had entertained the idea of suicide, but never really came too close. Still, it was plenty enough to leave its mark for the rest of my life. I had problems trusting people for quite a while afterwards.

_What a clusterfuck._

"I'm sorry," Aeshia winced, noticing my moody expression. "I didn't mean to make you relive that."

"It's fine," I blurted, not knowing if it was true. "It's just...I'm trying - well, was trying - to move on. Put it behind me. Make a new life for myself. But sometimes, I would just be sitting and thinking, and then it would hit me all over again. Remembering the sorrow, the anguish, and eventually, the emptiness..." I sighed. "But I can't stay stuck in the past. I have to move on. I promised myself."

She nodded. "You're willing to accept your mistakes and fix them. That's good. Another reason why we picked you."

I squirmed in my seat. "Well, here's hoping I can live up to your expectations.." I muttered, uneased by her words.

"That, Alex, is up to you." she said pointedly. "Now, because of all that turmoil, you're rather awkward when it comes to social dynamics. You're slow to trust, and you tend to keep people at a distance. That also means that you often keep things to yourself that you should confide in others. Most people find it hard to crack through your mental shields and see the person inside. Therefore, a lot of people don't know what to make of you, and it puts them off. Conversely, when someone does manage to gain your trust, you display strong loyalty and dedication. Unfortunately, that doesn't happen too often. Certain people are capable of seeing through the walls, but they're few and far in between. Put all of that together, and you generally know three types of people. The ones you despise, the ones that you're neutral or friendly towards yet distant at the same time, and the ones you trust absolutely and would lay down your life for. Your problem is that you don't know enough of the third."

_That stings. But it's also the truth._ "Anything else?"

"One more." Aeshia said, fixing me with a deadly serious look. "I know your sense of justice is fundamentally central to you as a person. Your only intolerance is intolerant people, and you're willing to go to great lengths to uphold your beliefs. But don't go too far. Don't consume yourself in revenge or retribution for things you perceive to be wrong. He who fights monsters, Alex. Ignore this warning at your own peril."

"I'll...keep that in mind." I said slowly, chastised. "So...you've explained that I'm a special case and what that all means, and you mentioned the Mass Effect universe specifically to get my attention. I guess I know where you're sending me, then?"

She nodded.

"Okay...what do you expect me to accomplish once I'm there?"

"One overarching goal. You have foreknowledge - of the Reapers' existence, the threat they pose, and of the events that were represented by the Mass Effect games. Simply put, you have the power to alter the course of The Reaper War. And with such great power, comes great responsibility."

"Damn, you don't ask for much.." I shuddered. "You sure you want me doing this?"

"We wouldn't have brought you here if we'd thought you couldn't get it done."

"Do I even have a choice in all this?"

"Of course you do." she replied, mildly offended. "We wouldn't force anyone into an arrangement like this against their will. Beside, even if we didn't care about what you thought, pushing unwilling individuals into situations where worlds are at stake generally doesn't produce the best results."

"And what happens if I refuse?"

"Well, then we treat you like anyone else who died, and you'll go pretty much the way you thought it would be - a long sleep without end." She shrugged. "Then we start looking for other candidates."

"I see…" I mused. "Is there somewhere I can think about this?"

"Door on your right. Take your time," she gestured, "and come back when you're ready."

* * *

_A/N: The plot bunnies were relentless, so I eventually yielded to their demands._

_Try not to read too much into the whole Realm business. It does act as a setup for our protagonist's adventures, but it's definitely not going to be as involved in the story as say__, Mass Vexation's Fade._

_Xheng is not my real last name, going to say it now. However, I am of Asian descent._

_This is my first project of this kind and scale, so any reviews (bar flames) would be appreciated. If you like it, please spread the word. I'd appreciate it a lot._


	2. The Leap

_This is...a monumental undertaking, to say the least. I'd better think this one through carefully._

I was in the provided room, which was just large enough for me to pace in circuits around the perimeter without bumping into anything. The thoughts which had been suppressed earlier by my need to gather information were now pouring out in droves and seizing my attention. I let them run free, my brow furrowed in concentration.

_First off, what could go wrong? Well, assuming Murphy's Law is in effect - and it always is - then careful planning alone won't cut it. Then again, that never stopped Shepard. The Commander always found a way._

I sighed. _However, I'm not some N7 Operator or Spectre who was born for greatness. I'm just some average American college student from the early 21st century that's now being asked if they want to take a mission that could decide the fate of a few trillion people and millennia of civilization. Is that something I can pull off? I mean, they - the Realm people - wouldn't have brought me here if they thought I couldn't….but I don't know. Thousands of ancient warships hell-bent on the destruction of all sentient life. Is that really something one person can stop? And if I screw up, then...the consequences are unimaginable. Damnit. Why is nothing ever easy?_

_Nothing worth doing ever is. And that's the thing. Would we value those jewels as much if they could be obtained with barely an afterthought?_

_This conflict will be a war for survival, and those are never pretty. No war is, as much as some would like to claim otherwise. Will it be pleasant - no. But is it a struggle worth fighting? Are the things we endure for really worth all the pain?_

_Yes._

_Then this deserves my utmost effort. Go in expecting failure and you'll get exactly what you prophesized. On the other hand, if you're fighting to win, then success is infinitely more achievable. You wouldn't be facing this scenario if it was an impossible undertaking. You have to believe that. Of course, victory is never a guarantee. But that's why you work for it._

_I have the opportunity to be part of something massive in scope and worthy as a cause. And if I can change things for the better, then I have a duty to assist._

* * *

Back in the office, I sat down in my chair, noting with amusement an ongoing game of Solitaire on Aeshia's monitor. I watched a jack of hearts plant itself on a ten of spades, then coughed. "I've made my decision."

She swiveled to face me. "What will it be?"

"I'll do it." I declared, exhaling slowly.

A solemn gaze. "Are you sure?"

I nodded.

"I was hoping you'd say that." she said, relaxing in her seat. "Alright, so now, we have a few things to elaborate on before we send you off. All of this is crucial information, so keep it in mind." With that, she began opening data files on her screen.

I chuckled. "So is this the part where you give me a cryptic reference or prophecy that'll send me on a wild goose chase?" Aeshia fixed me with a glare, still typing. "Right, listening." I coughed.

She rolled her eyes, then continued. "...First, I'll give you the obligatory Butterfly Edict. You've played through all three games and all the DLCs, so you should have a reasonable idea of what to expect - at first. Note that any actions you take might have a significant effect on the future and render your preknowledge unusable. We're not saying that you should avoid influencing canon, but that you should carefully consider your moves before you make them. Your pre-knowledge is invaluable. Exercise caution." The lines were rehearsed, like she had uttered them many times in the past. _She probably has._

"That's the plan, at least…" I muttered, running a hand through my dark hair. Outside, starlight was hitting the mist at the summits and igniting a breathtaking kaleidoscope of colors. Entranced, I let out a soft gasp at the spectacle.

"Now," Aeshia said, ignoring the scenery, "we're going to take the liberty of giving you a few minor physical enhancements - some basic genetic enhancements for your ears and eyes, for starters. After all, when you're firing a gun, it's somewhat important that you don't go deaf after a few shots or to be able to clearly see a target more than 50 meters out, you know? So, your ears should be able to handle gunshot-level sounds about as well as a standard military-grade implant, and you'll also be a little more receptive to lower-volume sounds. The file says you had to wear contacts in your old life...well, say goodbye to those." I started grinning - god, did I hate relying on contacts. _Damn crutches._ "Your vision should now level out to about 20/10. And you'll need a translator for alien languages, so you'll have that as well."

Taking the inner jig I was evidently trying not to dance as acceptance, she moved on. Reaching into her desk, she pulled out a small, rounded disk about two and a half inches in diameter, and slid it across to me. Catching it, I examined the symbol engraved on both sides - three white interlocked triangles on a black surface which felt like marble, although I suspected it was something a lot more durable. I looked at Aeshia inquiringly.

"What you have in your hands is one of our UPLINK modules. You'll find it useful to be able to communicate with us over here in the Realm, so this'll serve that function."

"You're right, that would be nice…" I mused, looking down at the oversized M&M. "How does it work?"

"Clasp the module between your palms and hold it horizontally against your solar plexus," she instructed, "then flip your hands until the one that was underneath is now on top. Then say a specific phrase within five seconds of the twist. You can choose what you want it to be," she said, and resumed her work, "so go ahead."

I thought for a minute, turning words over in my head, then shrugged. _Why the hell not?_ "Activate HERMES Protocol, Authorization Code One-Nine-One-One Tango Kilo Delta." The M&M - _I swear, I'm just gonna call it that from now on_ - subtly quivered for a moment, then lay still. I poked it a few times, but nothing else happened.

"Interesting choice of words…" Aeshia muttered, still typing.

I shrugged again. "Hermes, Greek messenger of the gods… the 1911 is my favorite twentieth-century handgun of all time...and Tango Kilo Delta is TKD, or Taekwondo. Abbreviation for the martial art I studied for over eight years and hold a Second Dan black belt in. And I put it in the NATO phonetic alphabet for kicks. If one of my strengths has to be the retention of useless information, then I might as well put it to use." _  
_

"Hm…" she mused, then got back to business. "Anyway, you'll be able to communicate once that's done. Now, if you want to link other people in as well, all they have to do is touch it, like a Portkey from Harry Potter, and you'll say a different phrase. That one you can choose later." she quickly said, seeing my mental gears about to start up again. "Oh, and it's pretty much impossible to lose."

I looked at her bemusedly. "Care to explain that last part?"

"This particular unit has miniature mass effect drives which respond to a genetic marker that you'll receive from having been in the Realm. Just summon it mentally and it'll appear in your hands. Works over any distance. Don't tell anyone that. Some salarian scientist is liable to drive themselves crazy trying to figure it out." she smirked. "Needless to say, we're pretty proud of it."

I looked at the M&M in delight._ That's...awesome!_ "Given my track record with losing things, that's a boon right there." I said sheepishly.

She snorted. "Here's hoping you don't do the same with your rifle."

"That wounds me, my good lady." I pouted, feigning a hurt expression.

"Yeah, yeah...anyway, last thing. The writers at Bioware did an awesome job on the games, but they didn't quite get everything nailed down. For you, the important thing that comes from this discrepancy is that the Catalyst - and the Crucible along with it - is not an option. It doesn't exist here."

I reeled backwards in shock. _Please don't tell me we have to fight the Reapers conventionally, please nononononofuck….fuck!_ My head began to pulse. "Are you saying…"

"No! Not that bad." Aeshia exclaimed hastily. She settled down. "There is another option available to you. It's still in the same location, the Mars Archives. You'll have to get access to their files somehow." she said, shooting me an apologetic look.

My shoulders slumped in relief. _Oh, thank fuck._ "What's this thing called? And what does it do?"

Aeshia brought up another file. "It goes by the name of Pandora. Dark energy manipulation. The specifics are in the files, and I doubt you'd understand the scientific explanation anyway."

_Yeah, my C grades in all my science classes can attest to that._ "Cool. And I suppose I should prioritize getting those files, huh?" I sighed. _How am I ever going to get in there?_

"Yeah. And...that wraps up everything I have to tell you for now." she said, closing most of her windows.

I was stretching in my chair when a thought occurred to me. "If you have the power to affect universes like you are now with sending me off…" I said slowly, "then why can't you just erase the Reapers from the galactic scene and be done with it?"

Aeshia's expression took on a tired look. "It's related to one of our oldest directives." she sighed. "And it's for the same reason that we don't get rid of every other problem that limits people and their societies. Without obstacles, people would grow complacent. If people aren't challenged in some way or another, they stagnate. Culture, technology, everything. Life would have no reason to evolve. What's the point of a perfect existence where nothing changes?" she asked rhetorically.

"What about just erasing the Reapers, then?" I questioned.

She shook her head. "If we did it once, then we would cross a line. We'd fall into the mindset of 'if it's okay once, it's okay twice'. And then thrice, and four times, and so on. And no, this is not just speculation." she clarified, seeing my unconvinced demeanor. "We made this exact mistake once a long, long time ago." A grimace. "Didn't end well. We resolved to never do it again."

_Sounds like Mordin. She's got a point, though._

"So, you ready for this?" she said abruptly, startling me.

_Man, this is actually happening._ "Yeah. Let's get this started before I change my mind. Or before it combusts from all this information." I responded, letting out a breath I hadn't recalled taking in.

Aeshia nodded, then spoke to her computer. "Twenty-Seven, start temporal jump sequence."

_Crap, forgot to ask._ "Where exactly am I gonna end up?"

"Citadel. We'll try not to dump you in the keeper vats." she winked.

_This is like those self-insert fanfics I was reading a while back. Why is it always the Citadel? _I thought, taking one last glance at the mountains.

"Jump sequence ready."

"Activate."

The scene around me turned to a searing white for the second time. An agonizing wave of pain hit me for a brief second, then faded away as I vaguely heard the computer in the background.

**"Temporal Leap successful."**

Darkness.

* * *

_A/N: Anddddd we're off! Stay tuned._

_School's started up again, so I'm not going to be updating on a very consistent schedule. Doesn't mean I won't find a few minutes each day, though. I have plenty of personal motivation to continue this story._

_We'll have a little more action on our hands next chapter, I promise._

_If anyone knows good beta readers, I'd appreciate some references._

_The 1911 is one of the best handguns in existence. Period. What I would do to get my hands on a Springfield... Of course, an HK or Glock wouldn't go amiss either._

_For the record, I can actually recite the entire NATO phonetic alphabet from memory. Hooray for useless skills!_

_Author's Semi-Chapter-ly Artistic Media Recommendation: If you like ME fanfiction, and you haven't already read it, go read The Naked Pen's fic Mass Effect: Interregnum. It presents a brilliant take on Garrus and his time as Archangel on Omega, and is considered one of the best Mass Effect fanfics in existence - for damn good reason, I say._

_Input and reviews are always appreciated._


	3. The Arrival

_A/N: Hey guys! Exams are finally over, so I can finally get back to doing things I actually like, which includes...writing this story!_

_Alert: For those of you who found this story before Chapter 3, the title has been changed. Same story, just "Temporal Leap" instead of "ME:Temporal Leap"._

* * *

_I wonder if this is what being blind feels like._

This time, I didn't have to wait long for the world to materialize. With an audible _snap_, the eternal night gave way to new surroundings. I shut my eyes, willing a few lingering aches away, then looked up and took in my environment. A sparsely lit hallway stretched out before me, not too cramped, but not exactly roomy, either. A few crates were stacked next to me, and a quick glance to the rear revealed a dead end, the only features present being a ventilation duct with a console to its left.

_Well, looks like I made it. And unlike Arnold, I managed to avoid burning the imprint of a massive sphere into the floor. Anyway, I should be out of sight here while I sort things out._

I still had my clothes on, thankfully. Blue jeans, black wicker shirt, dark olive jacket…a shuffle through my pockets confirmed that all my possessions were present as well: Watch on the wrist...in the right pocket, my iPod Touch (a quick inspection revealed that the battery was drained) and headphones, a Swiss Army knife, and a larger folding knife - a Benchmade Griptilian with a 3 1/2 inch-long blade. I wrinkled my brow in confusion - _didn't I leave that in my camping pack? Maybe I'll ask Aeshia about it later...in the meantime, it doesn't hurt to be armed._ Above it, a black Mag-Lite flashlight was secured in a hip pouch. Continuing my rifling of my pockets on the left, I found my wallet, my Galaxy S4 smartphone (also without juice), a .308 caliber rifle casing - a souvenir from a hunter's education camp a few years back_, good times_…a pen, pencil, and some loose change. _That's it._

I stretched my shoulders, thinking. _Can't leave this alley quite yet, still need to take care of a cover story. Hm...I doubt I can pass it off as a drug trip...anyone who talks to me for more than five minutes would be able to tell I'm not the type to take drugs...plus, I don't know how long hallucinogens in the future stay in a person's system. Any quick drug test by the police - well, it's C-Sec now - might blow my cover. Best to avoid that._ I frowned._ No clue if Aeshia put any records or files in their databases, either, so I can't depend on that..._

_I need something that can't be traced…_

* * *

I got to my feet, yawning. _Ok, got my background down, now let's get out of here and - HOLY CRAP!_

My heart skipped a beat as a large green bug with four legs and beady eyes crawled past, ignoring me, and stopped in front of the console. I stared at the back of its head. _That's a keeper, right..? Yeah. Just a keeper, thank Christ. Damn, is it ugly…_

Moving to the end of the hallway, I stepped cautiously into the open, and my jaw dropped.

All around me, a bustling multi-species crowd flowed through the streets. Asari, turians, salarians, a few humans, even the odd volus or hanar. Not a second passed when people of at least three different races didn't walk by. If there ever was an example of vibrant diversity, this was it. Not programmed NPCs or detailed textures, _but living, breathing beings._ And behind it all...the golden arms of the Citadel arched gracefully away into the silent expanse of the vacuum. _My god, it's massive. 2007-era computer graphics didn't do this justice! It's...incomprehensibly beautiful._

I stared until I caught a turian C-Sec officer looking quizzically at me, seeing a strange human loitering in out-of-date attire. I offered a weak wave in return, upon which he snorted and moved off. _Right, time to get a move on. And when in doubt...go left_, I thought, and started walking, marveling at the various aliens and alien sights, all while trying to be discreet about it. The entire place was a cultural analyst's wet dream: Restaurants promoting cuisine of all races, ads for multi-species music productions, almost anything I could think of was there. Asari beauty products on the left, a salarian tech outlet next to a turian food store on the right, and a small volus bank at the end of the street. And around the corner..._An actual Japanese ramen bar on the Citadel?! Oh man...I haven't had ramen or sashimi in ages_...I chuckled as I remembered the words of a particular tank-bred krogan - "Worms. Dead ones." _I'll have to come back here and order a bowl sometime - and I just remembered I don't have credits. Damnit._

I resumed walking, but at a slowed pace, pondering my dilemma. _So I have no currency, no housing, no connections, and no clue. I need to remedy that quickly...first off, what date is it?_ A purple hologram by a skycar depot caught my eye. _Ah, hello, Avina. I should be able to get a few things out of her._ I strode over, dodging a crowd of arguing salarians and a pair of excited asari on the way.

"Hello, [UNREGISTERED], welcome to the Citadel," Avina proclaimed cheerfully. "This is Bachjret Ward Tourism Terminal 8. How may I help you?"

"Hi…" I said slowly, shifting on my feet. "What date is it?" A passing turian shot me an odd look, which I pretended not to see.

"It is February 18th, 2182, according to Earth's standard Gregorian calendar." Pause. "This is not a normal request."

_So much for that theory._ And now I had the problem of figuring out how to survive on the Citadel for an extended period of time before 2183 rolled around. _In Mordin's words - problematic..._

My eyes idly traced the flickering patterns of the hologram for a few moments before I resumed speaking. "So, what's in the area?"

"The volus merchant Expat runs a respected chain of general goods stores around the Citadel, one of which is three hundred meters to the right of our current location…"

* * *

Two hours later, I was walking away from the aforementioned shop several pounds lighter and 31,050 credits richer. I had sold everything in my pockets except for my phone, my Benchmade folding knife, and the rifle casing. The volus merchant had been particularly enthusiastic about my iPod touch, which had been in excellent condition. After some haggling, I had parted with it for about 24,000 , I'd honestly expected to get severely ripped off, but the merchant had been in a fairly amicable mood. The rest of the items had summed up to 7,000 total, and Expat had given me an extra 50 creds when I explained my "situation". My cover story was that I was the child of two parents who had worked on freighters in the Terminus and had been killed by pirates when I was fourteen. After that, I had worked odd jobs until a few days ago, when I had gotten completely hammered at a friend's bachelor party and somehow ended up on the Citadel.

It was far from the most original story, but I had picked it for good reason. The whole thing was pretty much untraceable, as the Terminus Systems generally didn't have the best record-keeping capabilities. My supposed drunkenness prevented me from having to answer questions about how I got on the Citadel, as I wouldn't have remembered myself. I had explained my possession of the 2010-era items as a family tradition of buying tech from their era and passing it on for a few generations until they could be sold for vastly greater prices as collector's items. As for my retro clothing, I had shrugged and simply said "It's more comfortable." Expat had left it at that, turning his attention back to his customers. I took the opportunity to slip out of the store and back into the crowds.

After a few more minutes of walking, I spotted a public extranet cafe nestled on the corner of an intersection. _It's still a hundred and fifty meters away - the genetic enhancements are working_, I thought happily. _But anyway...I suppose some time searching online would shed some light on things._

There was no reception desk, only a sign that read: **Extranet usage fee is 1 credit per minute. Insert your credit chit into the slot associated with your terminal and take it with you when you leave. Please log out of any accounts when you are finished for your own privacy and protection. Thank you for your patronage.**

I strolled past the sign and chose a terminal at the back._ Ok, so...ah, there's the power switch. And the chit goes here…_ The terminal hummed to life and the haptic interface popped up. _Sweet, keyboard configuration is what I'm used to. QWERTYUIOP, all that good stuff. All right, 22nd century web browsing, let's see what you've got…_

* * *

Yet another hour passed by, and I left the cafe thirty-six credits poorer, but with greater insight on the workings of the universe I now occupied. For starters, I had searched for "Commander Shepard Alliance Navy" and found that I had a female Shepard, apparently with both a tale of harrowing escape at Azuke _and_ distinctions earned fighting at Elysium. Earlier background revealed that she had lost her parents to batarian slavers at Mindoir. Beyond that, however, there wasn't much else I could really learn about her from the extranet, so I moved on. Some browsing of the Codex confirmed that everything else was pretty much as I expected. The history was exactly as I had remembered it, right up to human's current status as an embassy race of the Council. Human-batarian relations were as volatile as ever, there was still some animosity between us and the turians, and in general, other races were still suspicious and occasionally frightened of us. _That'll change,_ I thought. _Hopefully._

Just then, someone crashed into me, sending me sprawling. "Sorry!" a female voice shouted as I picked myself up. I twisted around and saw a female quarian in a white-blue enviro suit supporting a limping male quarian in a golden-black suit, both hurrying away from me.. "Come on," the female hissed to her partner, "they can't be far behind. Bosh'tet!" she cursed as the male stumbled. "Get up! Go, go!" A few more seconds, and they had melted into the crowd.

_What the hell?_

I stood there indecisively for a few moments, curious, conflicted, and confused. _Fuck it,_ I decided, and followed.

It wasn't too hard to spot the pair again, as the male's limp was slowing them down, and they were the only quarians in sight. I trailed them from a distance, trying not to make my presence obvious. As they hastened through the streets, passerby either ignored them or sneered as they struggled by, one asari even spitting at their feet. The male weakly returned with a rude jerk of the wrist, although the female ignored her and pushed past, practically carrying the male at this point. _Wow. People are assholes.._

I tracked them for a few more blocks before the female stopped, looked around for a few seconds, then turned left into an alley. I quickened my pace, worried about losing them. Reaching the place where they had turned, I looked into the dark hall and saw the faint glow of an omni-tool shining on the walls behind a pile of crates. Beyond that, a single door led to another area.

_Do I know what's going on? No. Is this a good idea? Probably not._

_But they might need help._

Against my better judgement, I headed in.

* * *

I had only gotten about twenty meters into the alley when there was a quick scuffle of feet and a bright light that sent rings flashing through my vision. At the same time, I heard the sound of a gun extending and the female's voice barking "Move and I shoot!"

_Shit._

The light slowly dimmed, allowing me to see, but the muzzle of the firearm - a shotgun, as it appeared - stayed firmly in place.

"You're the human I bumped into earlier." she realized. "Why are you following us?"

_I say the wrong thing and I die, no savegames or respawns. Fuck. Gotta choose my words carefully._

"I thought it was odd the way you were in a such a hurry…" I said slowly, painfully aware of her grip on the shotgun. "And your friend was wounded...so I followed..."

"Why?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"I wanted to help." I said, feeling my heart pounding.

"Bullshit." she said flatly. "Everyone we've met here since we arrived has looked at us as beggars and thieves. What makes you different?"

"I'm different because I am who I am and don't care if you're quarian!" I shot back, becoming increasingly frustrated and nervous. "Now are you going to shoot me for telling the truth, or are you going to let me help you?"

The five second pause that ensued felt like an eternity.

"Fine," She scowled - at least I thought she did, with the mask over her face. She lowered the shotgun, but didn't put it away. "My name is Shalta'Xen nar Moreh, and my partner Xolan'Mal nar Shellen," she said, walking back behind the crates while keeping an eye on me, "has been shot in the leg, and I just used the last of my medi-gel." I followed her, and indeed, the male was lying there, groaning softly in pain.

"Who's chasing you?" I asked as she crouched and waved her omni-tool over her companion.

"A gang of humans on this blasted station whose idea of fun is hunting down female quarians, raping them, and murdering them." Shalta spat. "Good enough for you?"

I didn't have a response, so after an awkward pause, I asked how she could use my help.

"As I said, I'm out of medical supplies, so we need to get to a clinic," Shalta said, calming slightly, "specifically, a clinic run by a human called Chloe Michel." She brought up a map on her omni-tool, which showed a flashing dot not far from our location. "Quarians coming back from Pilgrimages on the Citadel have spoken favourably of her. We'll see if they were right or not." As Shalta spoke, she hoisted Xolan up and put one of his arms around her shoulder, seemingly unbothered by the weight. The shotgun was still clutched in her other hand.

_So I get to met Dr. Michel early, huh? Should be interesting. Well, this has been an interesting day…_ I was about to hold Xolan's other side when suddenly, a very bad feeling swept over me. I lunged forward and grabbed Shalta, who had already started with Xolan towards the door, and hauled her back behind the crates.

"What are you-"

"Wait!" I exclaimed. There was no additional room behind the crates, so I was forced to lean against them in full sight of the entrance and compose myself. Scarcely had I done this when three human males came into view and spotted me, seemingly alone in the alley.

"Hey handsome!" one of them shouted. "What'cha doing back there?"

"Just waiting for a friend," I said as casually as I could. _Don't start shaking, damnit._

"Friend, huh?" he laughed. "I'm sure. We've got our own 'friends' to meet too, ain't that right, Marlowe? Calvin?"

"You got that right, Theo." one of his cronies said, giving an almost savage smile. "And man, are we going to enjoy ourselves when we get there!" To my left, I heard Shalta growl angrily.

"Anyway," the man named Theo said, "ya seen any quarians 'round here recently? Any lady ones, especially?"

"No." I said simply. _Go away._

"Huh." he responded. "Well, ya see any, ya let us know," he said. "Come on, boys." Not a moment too soon, they left.

Shalta emerged with Xolan, giving me an unidentifiable look from beneath the mask. After a few seconds, she simply said, "Let's go." I took Xolan's arm over my neck and with Shalta on his other side, began to carry him towards the door.

A familiar voice rang out, sending a jolt down my spine. "Oh yeah, buddy, what if - hold on, that's them! The quarians! You fucking liar!" I looked back, and saw the three humans starting forward and drawing knives. _Weapons. Fuck._

"Bosh'tet!" Shalta cursed, and practically ran for the door, forcing me to keep up so as to avoid dropping Xolan. The door detected our speed and shot open just in time for us to barrel through. Shalta halted, tapped a command into her omni-tool, and the door lock turned red. I looked ahead and saw that we were in a long hallway with multiple doors spaced evenly on either side, each one numbered in sequential order, like a apartment building. A keeper was walking into the third door on the left - Number 207. Behind us, something slammed into the door, then the sounds of muffled shouting filtered through. "The lock's not going to hold," Shalta said hurriedly, "in there. Move!"

"That's someone's home!" I exclaimed. Shalta ignored me and began to drag us toward the door. _Fuck. No choice._ I hurried over, making sure not to drag Xolan's feet on the floor. We made it into 207 just as the other door turned green. I saw it begin to open before our own door slammed shut.

This was definitely an apartment, as there was a kitchen a little forward and to the left, and a living room just beyond with a staircase in the corner. Shalta took Xolan from me and lifted him into a fireman's carry, not even straining at the effort. "Go the door and listen for anything!" she hissed at me. "I'll get Xolan into a room and watch the corner with the shotgun. If they start coming through, get the hell back behind me." With that, she moved toward a doorway nestled under the staircase. I obeyed, crouching by the door. Quickly, I heard their voices.

"They went in there, I know it!"

"Bitch already sent one of us to the hospital. She'll pay!"

"Can you get it open?"

"Yeah, give me a sec.."

_Oh, shit._ I darted into the kitchen doorway and tried to calm my heart, which felt like it was trying to blow a hole in my chest cavity. _Ok, I need to get back to Shalta and-_

The door chimed.

_Too late._ I closed my eyes.

I heard the door slide open, and time seemed to slow to a crawl.

_Backed into a corner. Armed men coming through. No option but to fight. Ten minutes ago, I was walking around safe. How did it come to this?_

_Death is the only option left. Live or die. Kill or be killed. Someone will not be walking back out of this room._

_Among all the philosophical points I've ever contemplated, I've always moralized about killing - how self-defense is always justified, how it's better for the good to kill and live on than it is for the evil to kill and continue committing evil. But for all that armchair thinking, I've never had to apply those principles for real. Now, I stand at that precipice._

_What will I do? Will I live up to those beliefs that I hold so firm, or will I shirk from them and wither away?_

_Ethics are useless if one can't stand behind them. You know that. Ask yourself this: Do you truly take your morals to heart? Are they worth upholding?_

_..._

_Yes._

_Then act on them._

The first man came into view around the corner, and I moved.

I stepped out and snapped my hips into one massive elbow strike right to his face. As he dropped his knife and bought his hands up to clutch his now broken nose, I grabbed his throat with both hands, slammed my knee into his solar plexus once, twice, then stepped back and shoved him to the ground with my right arm. I heard the sickening crunch of breaking bones as I stepped over him, facing the other two.

Eight years of martial arts training deployed my body into a classic combat stance: one foot a shoulder width in front of the other and slightly offset, arms up and slightly bent, hands balled into fists, torso bent slightly forward. The other two men stood stock still, looking at me in shock. I glared daggers at them, and practically _snarled_ a challenge.

The one called Theo was still gaping, but his comrade recovered more quickly. Raising his knife, he charged at me, shouting obscenities. I tensed my body, then leapt to one side as he slashed wildly downward. Before he had the opportunity to attack again, I shifted my foot so that he tripped over it. Then, as he began to fall, I stepped back in and delivered a staggering punch to his temple, followed by a vicious kick to his face. He collapsed on his arm and for some reason jerked oddly. My attention turned to Theo, who had finally recovered his senses...and was now pointing a pistol at my chest.

_Shit._

"DON'T MOVE!" he shouted frantically. "Hands up!" he continued, like a bank robber in a bad movie.

_Somehow, I don't think he plans to bake me a cake with that thing._

"Easy…" I said, slowly raising my arms, looking for an opening.

"Hey!" a another voice shouted, this one an...asari? Theo's attention faltered momentarily, and that was all I needed. I darted forward, seized the gun arm between my forearms and twisted it upwards and away from my body. Faintly, I heard the pistol go off, and felt a searing hot line brush the side of my throat. Too little, too late. I reared my head back and rammed it into his, causing him to cry out in pain. He didn't have the opportunity to do much else as I grabbed the wrist holding the gun and brought my elbow crashing down on his shoulder, breaking it. The pistol clattered to the floor. He was howling as I wrapped my arm around his neck in a guillotine choke and with an air of finality, wrenched upwards, breaking it. He went limp instantly.

* * *

The body spilled to the floor as I let it drop, panting. Looking down, I stared at the three unmoving forms numbly, my mind racing. In the corner of my eye, I saw Shalta standing in the hallway with shotgun in hand, her body language radiating surprise. I opened my mouth to speak, when suddenly my entire body froze, encased in a blue glow. I couldn't budge an inch. Shalta didn't move, either, also stuck in place.

Locked in place, I could only watch as an asari and a batarian strode into view, the asari glowing with biotic power. The batarian moved over quickly, snatching the gun and one of the knives up and putting them on the kitchen counter - _but where's the second knife?_ I got my answer as the batarian turned the second man over. The other knife was lodged in his heart, apparently from falling on it, and his eyes were glazed and unblinking. _Oh no, I didn't mean for that to happen.._

The asari took it upon herself to examine the first man who I had ambushed, revealing a severely damaged face. _Fuck, is it...CAVED in? Oh god, that's bloody.. I hit him in the face once! One hit doesn't do that kind of destruction! What the hell?_

The asari looked at the batarian. "Call C-Sec," she said calmly, "and I'll make sure these two don't go anywhere."

"Got it," the batarian responded, and walked back into the living room.

_Fuck. I just killed three people with my bare hands and now I'm probably going to be thrown in a C-Sec holding cell. Hell, it was in self-defense! But if Murphy's Law is right, I'm not going to have any proof of it._

_Aw, crap._


	4. The Complication

_A/N: Hey guys! Sorry that I took so long to update, but honestly? My writer's block has been terrible. Hopefully I won't have to repeat this._

_I'm going to say it right now: I don't care about what happens in the comic books or anything else besides the games Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, and Mass Effect 3, plus their DLCs. Everything else is fair game._

_Special Response: C-Sec equivalent of SWAT._

* * *

I shifted again on the cot and sighed, idly drumming my fingers against the frame. True to my earlier predictions, I was now sitting in a C-Sec holding cell - a small room with little more than the aforementioned cot and a urinal, all boxed in by three blank walls and a opaque sliding door. A camera was perched in one of the corners, its unblinking lens watching silently.

For obvious reasons, my possessions had been confiscated, leaving me without a timepiece. I had to fall back on rough estimates, and according to them, I'd been in the cell for about four hours so far. Given all the entertainment value it had to offer, I was bored stiff. _If you listen closely, you can practically hear my higher functions shutting down._

At least there was no Hugo Weaving present to insert a squirming probe into my belly button. _God, it was squicky enough watching that part on film. Didn't help that I was twelve at the time, either._

I'd run the gauntlet to get to my current predicament. Back at the apartment, I'd been questioned thoroughly by C-Sec about my involvement in the "incident". All throughout, I had stuck closely to my backstory while making sure to keep a degree of consistency between it and the events that had just occurred. Afterwards, I'd been cuffed while the officers briefly conferred among themselves. Shalta and I had been separated at the beginning and I hadn't managed to catch a glimpse of her since, although I had seen Xolan as the medics came in and carried him out on a stretcher. Shortly after, I was on a cruiser to the precinct - riding in an aircar had been a novel experience, to say the least - and after being registered, I was assigned this tiny room and told to wait while C-Sec went through "proper protocol".

The officer who had escorted me to my cell - a friendly turian named Aetrius - had assured me that if my version of events was true, and the evidence backed it up, then I really had little to fear. "Thanks to turian influence, the law here is pretty clear on issues of self-defense," he'd said, "and with the weapons they were using, your use of lethal force was plenty justified."

"What about the first and second guys?" I asked. "Like I said, I meant to incapacitate them, not kill them."

He'd thought for a second, still walking. "Well, the second guy fell on his blade, and that's honestly something out of your control, so I don't think you have to worry about that." He frowned, then continued. "As for the first guy...honestly, I've never seen that happen to humans before, unless you count incidents involving krogan. Guess we'll have to wait for the techies at the forensics lab to sort things out. But in any case, your odds are still pretty good. And here we are..."

With that, I was ushered into the cell, the door locking behind me.

So a few hours later, I was sitting there, letting my thoughts run free.

_Not even here for a day and I'm already in prison. Hardly the best start to my new life. This is all just...so weird. I'm dead in my old life. And I can't go back. Hell, what does a person DO with that? All the people I ever cherished...no more heartfelt conversations, no more joyous laughter, no more simple affirmations of trust. Damnit, I was making something better out of my life! And then this happens. What strange twists our lives can take…_

My hand idly drifted up and traced the tender line that had been drawn across the side of my neck. I had gotten myself out of the line of fire quickly enough to avoid getting shot, but not quite fast enough to avoid being grazed by the bullet. A quick application of medi-gei from the officers had stopped the bleeding, but it still stung like a bitch. A half-second more and the bullet would likely have gone through my neck.

_And not even here for four hours before I end up having to kill people. I knew I was going to get around to it eventually when I met Shepard anyway, but still...it's fucked up. And what's weird is that I don't feel any guilt over their deaths - I mean, I regret that it was necessary...but I don't feel remorse for doing what I had to._

_What does that make me?_

After a few more hours passed, and with no sign of my cheerful thoughts ablating anytime soon, I decided to heed an old piece of military wisdom and catch some sleep while I could. I lay down, shut my eyes, and was out within a minute.

* * *

I woke with a start, although for a moment, I wasn't sure why. Then I heard a buzzing noise, and I realized that it was emanating from a speaker above the door. Yawning, I swung myself out of the cot just as the door opened and Aetrius walked in, accompanied by another officer who stayed in the doorway.

"Morning," Aetrius said in greeting, "I see you slept. Feeling alright?"

"Decent," I yawned again, "how much time passed while I was in here?"

"About nineteen hours," he answered. "We've got some news I think you'd like to hear."

"Yeah?" I responded, looking him in the eye.

His mandibles flexed in a grin. "We've managed to assemble enough evidence to verify your account of things and prove that it was self-defense - so you don't have to worry about having any legal charges filed."

"Really?" I exclaimed. He nodded. _Phew...that's a load off of my back. _"So...what does that mean? Am I free to go?"

"Not quite." Aetrius said, holding up a talon.

_Huh? _I was confused, and my expression showed it.

"There's been a...complication. If you'll follow me, we'll explain everything." he said, gesturing towards the entrance.

"Nothing's ever simple, is it?" I groused lightly, rising to follow him.

"That's police work for you."

On the way, we ran into another officer, a balding, glowering man whose breath smelled of alcohol. He looked oddly familiar…

"Aetrius," he scowled, "just what I needed to see - your sickeningly self-righteous ass up and about, just like the rest of the goody-goodies in this place."

_Oh, it's Harkin. Great._

"Harkin." Aetrius said stiffy, marching past without another word.

Harkin eyed me suspiciously. "And who the hell are you?" he scowled.

_Prick._ "None of your business." I said shortly, increasing my pace in order to leave him behind as fast as possible.

"Another one with a pole up their ass.." I heard him grumbling as we continued on.

As soon as we were out of earshot, I turned to Aetrius. "That guy - Harkin, you called him?" _Still gotta pretend I don't know anything. _"What's _his_ problem?"

Aetrius snorted angrily. "He's a disgrace to C-Sec, that's what. Drinking on duty, skimming credits off of drug seizures, roughing up suspects, you name it, he's done it."

"And he hasn't been fired yet?" I asked incredulously. _I already know all this, of course, but wow - what an asshole._

"Your human embassy has done a good job of keeping him here." he replied disgustedly, "They think it would look bad for your species if he was dismissed."

"That makes no sense!" I declared. "If they wanted the best of humanity in C-Sec, then they shouldn't choose a dishonest drunkard to represent us. What kind of logic is that?"

"I don't know." he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't normally get bothered by my job, and I'm proud to be at C-Sec, but this is just politics." As he said this, we reached a door. It opened into a small office, where four people were waiting.

Three of them I had seen just a day before - in front of me, the batarian and the asari from the apartment were sitting in chairs. The batarian unexpectedly raised a hand in greeting, which I returned awkwardly, while the asari nodded and said hello. Standing behind them was Shalta, her body language guarded. Upon seeing me however, she relaxed slightly and leaned against the wall, also nodding when I looked her way. Sitting behind a desk was a turian dressed in blue armor with blue markings on his face - and a visor over his left eye.

_No way._

"Alex Zheng?" he said in that familiar voice of his, "I'm Garrus Vakarian, Investigator for Citadel Security, and I've been assigned to this case. It's nice to meet you," he said, rising and extending a hand.

I leaned forward and shook it, trying my damndest not to break into a full-out grin. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Vakarian." I said truthfully. _Jesus, I'm standing in front of a Mass Effect legend! The odds of this happening...this is surreal._

"Just Garrus, thanks." he chuckled softly. "You don't need to bother with the formalities. Now, I'm sure you're eager to know what's been going on while you were in custody?"

"That would be nice." I responded, forcibly restraining my shock and refocusing. "So, what was it exactly that verified my story?"

"You can thank your quarian friend in part, for starters. Shalta...Xen, was it?"

_Whoa. Wait. XEN? As in __Admiral__ Xen?_

"...Xen nar Moreh," Shalta was saying. "Quarians who go on Pilgrimages are taught to always keep our video feed on if we encounter situations like these. Hard evidence is a boon when we have to prove our side of the story to law enforcement agencies."

_Moreh. That...yeah, I remember that was the name of Admiral Xen's ship! It lines up way too much to be a coincidence. How didn't I notice this before? Is she a daughter, relative, or..._

Someone coughed, and I started out of my musings, realizing that everyone was looking at me. I flushed and mumbled a 'sorry'. "So, video?" I said quickly, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Yes." Garrus said bemusedly. "Shalta's helmet-feed recorded the whole thing, as well as security cameras in the apartment you found yourself in."

_Well, that's convenient. Need I say anti-climactic? Not gonna complain if it sets me free, though._

"Funny that you should choose this particular apartment, though," Garrus continued, "because it just happened to be the residence of two of the most respected figures working with C-Sec today."

_What?_ "What?" I asked confusedly, turning to the asari and the batarian. Together, they rose to their feet, the batarian stepping forward first with an outstretched hand.

"Glad you could make it, kid," he said as we shook, "you handled yourself pretty well back there. I'm Carehn Khorek, and I'm part of C-Sec's Special Response Division, commander of Team Five."

"A batarian in C-Sec?" I asked, taken aback, then winced when I realized how stupid that had sounded.

"The one and only." Aetrius spoke up, grinning.

"Have I told you how lovely you look today, Carehn?" Garrus said, smirking. "I mean...those rosy cheeks of yours.." he continued, pretending to swoon.

"Garrus...are you trying to steal my man?" the asari interjected mock-sternly.

"He's just too irresistible, ma'am." Garrus replied, shaking his head mournfully.

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Carehn sighed exasperatedly. To me, he said, "Yeah, I'm a batarian in C-Sec. The only one, actually. If you're interested, I'll tell you more later."

"That would be cool." I responded. _Should make for an interesting story._

The asari got things back on track, introducing herself. "I'm Tarlessi Alvonia, former asari commando and part-time tactical adviser to Special Response. That's how I met my bondmate." she said, smiling affectionately at Carehn.

"An asari commando and a Special Response Team Leader." Garrus chuckled. "Hardly the best apartment to break into."

"I noted your takedown of those attackers," Tarlessi continued, "and it didn't look like any style I've seen before. Is it human?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "it's called Taekwondo, and it's ancient, from an Earth country called Korea. "

She quirked an eyebrow. "How did you have time to learn formally if you were on a freighter your whole youth?"

_Time for some misdirection. _"An old family friend who used to run a studio back on Earth. He traveled with us as a guard, and started teaching me when I was nine as something to pass the time in between mass relay transits. I ended up loving it, and practiced whenever I could."

Tarlessi nodded, accepting the explanation. Seeking to avoid too much inquiry into my background, I decided to change topics. "So, Garrus," I said, turning to face him, "why did Aetrius say I couldn't quite leave yet?"

"We don't know what happened," Garrus said, "but somehow, the camera footage we have of your takedown got leaked onto the extranet."

I froze, my mind racing. "Explain."

"Video-sharing sites, social networks, you name it. It was posted about ten hours after we took you in."

"All of it?" I said, my heart sinking.

"All of it," Garrus confirmed unhappily, "and it accumulated a substantial number of views before we realized it was there and took it down."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "So you're saying that there are potentially thousands of people on the street who know my face."

"Yes."

"Including the friends of the people who I attacked."

"...looks that way." Garrus finished unhappily.

_Great. _"What are the chances that this is an intentional leak?" I asked, assuming the worst.

"You mean a mole?" Garrus replied, frowning. "I hope not...but we shouldn't dismiss the possibility. I'll be doing some digging, but for now, if you or Shalta step out onto the street, we can't guarantee that you won't be recognized. Therefore, we can't always guarantee your safety." He thought for a moment. "Tell you what, meet me in the lobby after I get off, and I'll help you figure something out. In the meantime, stick to the area around the precinct, so the officers can keep an eye out for you."

I exhaled a small breath, reassured. _I don't really know anyone around here yet...but if there's anyone I can trust, it's Garrus._ "Thanks." I said.

"No problem." he replied, "I can tell you're in a tough situation, and it's the least I can do."

Just then, a human in a white medical coat walked in, handing a datapad to Garrus. "Here's the autopsy reports for the three of them. That first one is an interesting case." he said, turning and leaving.

Garrus scrolled through the datapad, visibly pausing and reading one section carefully before sliding it over to me. I picked it up and read:

**Name: Calvin Schuster **

**Species: Human **

**Sex: Male **

**Age: Twenty-five. **

Scrolling down, I found:

**Cause of Death: Massive blow to cranium, bone fragments embedded in brain due to severe depression of the skull. Refer to Comments Section for details on Vrolik's Syndrome.**

**Comments: DNA analysis of subject reveals presence of Vrolik's Syndrome. Weakened bone structure resulted in failure at point of impact. **

_That's...disturbing. _I thought, grimacing at the grisly mental image. _Then again...seeing how I'm likely going to get heavily involved in the Reaper War later on...it's best that I get used to it now._

"You okay?" Garrus asked me.

"I feel a little weird." I replied truthfully. "But I'll be fine."

After a few more minutes of discussion, and with a reminder to meet Garrus when he went off duty, I was allowed to go, albeit with a warning not to wander too far. Shalta made it clear that she would be visiting Xolan in the clinic first, but promised to contact me later. I left the office, collecting my possessions ('an odd assortment', I was told) along the way. I strolled past the lobby and stepped through the door onto the streets outside.

After a few moments of taking in the sights once again, I decided to do what I hadn't been able to do while under C-Sec's close supervision. Feeling my stomach grumble, and picking up the scent of a human steakhouse just around the corner, I set off to satisfy myself, making sure to keep a low profile.

* * *

Beef steak, cooked medium rare with fries on the side and a blissfully cold glass of Coca-Cola. Naturally, genuine meat on a space station had been pricy, but one look at the meat substitutes on the menu and I had decided to go big or go home.

Ok, so the food _had_ been good, but it wasn't the main reason I had wanted to get away. I looked around to make sure no one was in earshot or looking my way. Clear.

_I hope this works. _

_So...what do I do here...um..._

With a small _hum_, a small weight appeared in my hand, startling me. I looked down, and sitting in my palm was a small rounded black disk with three interlocking triangles embossed on the top. The M&M.

I sighed in relief. _So I guess I just have to think about summoning it, and it'll come. Easier than I thought._

I moved the M&M around for a few moments, idly testing the weight. After a few seconds, I put my other palm on top and twisted, then murmured _Activate HERMES Protocol Authorization Code One Nine One One Tango Kilo Delta _and instantly, I felt something in my mind shift. Black encroached on the edge on my vision, blurring my eyesight.

**Hello, Alex.**

_Aeshia?_

**Who else?**

_I assume you've been watching me?_

**Yes. Not the smoothest start to your mission, you know.**

_I know. But I did meet Garrus, and that alone is a huge step towards getting onto Shepard's crew._

**It is. If you find an opportunity to get to know him better, I'd advise you to take it.**

_I'd be glad to. He's someone I can trust._

**Good. You can contact me anytime, but make sure you do it in private and keep it as short as possible.**

_Got it._

**Aeshia out.**

The connection broke, and I was once again sitting at my table, staring at the disk. I contemplated it, realizing for the first time just how much power was just sitting in my palm. _Something to think about, _I thought, slipping it into my pocket, _but for now, I'd better get back to Garrus._

With that, I headed back out into Wonderland, ready to see how deep the rabbit hole would go.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry to those of you who anticipated a long struggle with the legal system, but to be honestly, that incident was as clear-cut a case of self-defense as you could find. However, we're still not off the hook yet. Some people outside the law will be very angry.._

_A connection to the quarian Admiralty? We'll see..._

_Again, my apologies for the delayed update time._


	5. The Escalation

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait - many things in my schedule competing for my attention combined with how slowly I write in general. For now, expect an update interval of roughly 3 weeks per chapter. Of course, in the summertime, you can expect that to shorten._

* * *

Back in the lobby and after a few hours' wait, I rose from my seat as a familiar turian walked over. "Hey, Garrus." I said in greeting as he came to a stop, his mandibles flaring in the turian equivalent of a yawn. "Have you guys found anything new?"

Garrus inclined his head in a 'so-so' manner. "No progress on how our video footage got leaked, but we do have a location that you can stay in for the time being."

"Where?"

"A C-Sec safehouse," he clarified, "located in Zakera Ward. Quiet and out of the way. You should be pretty secure."

"I see. And we're going now?"

Garrus nodded, and gestured for me to follow as he started walking. "Yeah. We'll hop on one of the unmarked cruisers and head over." As he said this, we passed through a side door in the lobby into a skycar lot, where various police vehicles were parked. Numerous marked police cruisers, two boxy behemoths marked **SPECIAL RESPONSE** on the side, and at the end, several relatively innocuous cars which looked like any of the others I had seen roaming the airways of the Citadel. Garrus headed to the nearest one and unlocked it. The top opened up, and Garrus swung himself into the drivers side, starting the engine as I clambered awkwardly into the copilot seat. With a low-pitched whine, the car began to hover. I secured my seat belt as Garrus pressed a few buttons and steered us out of the lot and into the skyway.

I leaned my head against the window and looked down as the Citadel whizzed by beneath us. Now that I was alone with Garrus, I was actually unsure of what to say. He wasn't exactly a stranger, but still, I found myself retreating into silence.

_Come on,_ I mentally rebuked myself, _I might have been introverted to a minor extreme in my past life, but here, that's got to change somehow. Garrus is a person I can trust. There's really no need to stay closed off._

Thankfully, Garrus spared me by speaking first. "So, Alex.." he said, "How do you feel about all this? It can't be easy knowing that these kinds of people are after you."

"Shalta mentioned them." I replied. "She said something about human rapists…?"

Garrus nodded slowly. "There really aren't that many records about this particular group. Given quarian distrust of C-Sec and how sporadic these attacks are, it's not surprising. But we do know that the group isn't too large - maybe about fifteen to twenty members, max. And you did just kill three of them, so that number will have dropped."

"And the rest are going to be out for my blood." I sighed as the car rounded a corner. "Just my luck."

"You're not scared?" Garrus asked.

"A little apprehensive." I replied. I wasn't exactly scared - my wits were still about me and I was thinking clearly. However, I was not looking forward to the hunt that the gang would surely be pressing. I had shed blood, and they would be furious. Mentally, I was preparing for the worst.

"I have to say, you don't sound like any human that I've ever met." Garrus commented.

I instantly raised a few mental shields. "How so?"

Garrus thought for a few moments. "You're far more open to talking to me as an alien, for starters. It's only been been about...twenty five years since you humans discovered the greater galactic community?" I nodded cautiously. "Most of the humans I've met are older guys in C-Sec who are still bitter about Shanxi or younger ones who've picked up the attitude from their parents. I meet a few humans that are more receptive every now and then, but they're still kind of awkward and detached."

I shrugged, relaxing. "My parents never pushed anything like that on me, and they got along pretty easily with the aliens that they worked with. I mean, a few people had grudges, obviously, but my parents stayed out of it. Personally, I don't see the point of judging people based on things they can't control."

"A rarity." Garrus noted, "Sadly, I can't say that turians are much better in that regard. The way things are right now, I don't see the animosity ending anytime soon."

_It might come sooner than you think, Garrus. Well, if Shepard spares the Council, anyway._ "You never know, Garrus." I remarked. "Things change, and attitudes change along with them. Time will tell."

"I suppose you're right." Garrus replied. Just then, his omni-tool buzzed. "Hold on. Go ahead." he said.

A familiar voice came through. "Officer Aetrius here. We're at the safehouse and we've got it prepped for your arrival."

"Good to hear." Garrus responded. "Are the defenses online?"

"Yeah. Everything's working as expected."

"Alright. ETA is about four minutes."

"I copy. Out." Aetrius said, and cut the call.

"Defenses?" I asked, looking at Garrus.

"Discrete kinetic barriers and cameras, primarily." he replied. "There's also a panic room in the back that's protected by a heavily reinforced door along with supplies and a communication link to C-Sec HQ."

Inside, the zombie apocalypse survivor within me rejoiced. "You guys certainly aren't screwing around." I remarked.

"Yeah, well.." Garrus grimaced. "There have to be some things that red tape can't get in the way of."

_Huh. Looks like Garrus is already having his doubts about the system._

The car dipped, and we began to descend.

* * *

"Here we are." Garrus said, entering a 5-digit code into a keypad. The door next to it slid open, and we stepped inside. I looked around, taking in the space around me as the door closed.

The safehouse was small and fairly simple in its layout. A small open space that doubled as a kitchen and a living room was off to my left. A tinted rectangular window looked out into the streets. In front of me, an open hallway hooked off behind the aforementioned space, presumably leading to a bathroom and bedrooms. I decided that it was reasonable for the panic room to be there as well.

Aetrius emerged from the kitchen, and caught sight of us at the door. "Hey Alex, Garrus." he said in greeting.

"Hey. Where's your partner?" Garrus asked.

"Yeah...him." Aetrius scowled. The reason for his distaste became evident as Harkin stepped around the corner and joined us.

_Aw, crap. I don't need this._

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here." he grumbled, his breath once again reeking of alcohol. "Let's - hic - get on with the babysitting. Make it quick and painless." He left again abruptly, leaving the two turians and I standing there.

Aetrius shook his head. "Just my luck to sprain my ankle on that last patrol and get stuck with that guy." It was then that I noticed that he was favoring his left leg.

"You'll get rotated out eventually." Garrus reassured him. "In the meantime, try not to put too much stress on that thing." To me, he said, "I have to go, but I'll be back later. In the meantime, try to get comfortable. You'll be here for a while yet."

"Yeah, okay.." I sighed, facing the prospect of confinement for the time being.

"I know the feeling." Garrus said sympathetically. "However, this is probably the safest location for you at the moment. In the meantime, I'll see if I can't dig up any more intel on this gang, and find out how the video got leaked."

With that, he was gone and I was left with Aetrius and Harkin. The former had been pleasant enough to me, but I was dreading the presence of the latter. The realization that Harkin - an inept drunkard and abusive authority figure - was now partially in charge of my protection made my heart sink. I looked at Aetrius, who was mirroring my mournful expression. "How did Harkin of all people get assigned to this position?" I asked incredulously.

Aetrius sighed. "He got caught skimming red sand off of a recent drug bust, and Palin - the Executor - got furious. He would have suspended Harkin too, if the human embassy hadn't haggled for him to be reassigned to this small-time post."

"Figures." I muttered. _Nice to see that politics is the same everywhere._

"I'm just glad that the Executor isn't standing for it," Aetrius continued, "even if he can't win every battle. Anyway, enough of this stuff. Let me show you around."

* * *

As the days passed, I gradually became accustomed to the routine of life in the safehouse. For my safety, I was barred from leaving, but I had several distractions to keep me occupied.

For one, there was an extranet terminal in the protectee's bedroom, which meant me. It was free to use, but was restricted to inbound traffic only. No problem. I dove in, determined that as long as I was stuck here, I should make the best use of my time. I spent several hours at a time looking through troves of information, confirming that the Codex from the games was indeed accurate. Several more hours were spent acquainting myself with popular culture in order to deflect any possible suspicion, as I knew that being a person here with tastes exclusively limited to the early 21st century and before would raise questions.

At other times, I would lay on my bed and contemplate the future. One of the things that I decided early on was that I needed to take care of the situation with the quarians and the geth as soon as possible. At least one side of the conflict - the geth - I knew that I wouldn't have too much trouble convincing to settle for peace. The deciding factor would be the quarians, who would be infinitely more difficult to persuade. It was very likely that I would need help from Shepard, who I knew was far more charismatic than I. However, I also knew that if the two sides could be united, we would have a massive asset in the upcoming war against the Reapers. The quarians' resourcefulness and ingenuity combined with the geth's capacity for production, precision, and instantaneous communication could potentially form a devastating combination that should not be overlooked.

I also had the opportunity to talk with Aetrius on a regular basis, and the more we talked, the more I liked him. On the whole, he was a friendly and honest guy, and he never once gave me any indication that he wished to treat me differently because of my race. We even had several discussions about the differences between human and turian cuisine, in which he expressed his envy of our diverse foods and joked that turians were lucky that their dishware wasn't made out of stone, otherwise they wouldn't even be able to tell their meals from their plates.

Harkin was a different manner. From my experience in _Mass Effect_, I had already resolved to avoid any unnecessary contact and ignore him when he was around. Spending days in proximity with the dolt only served to reinforce that conviction. Fortunately, he mostly kept to himself while sparing the occasional nasty comment for us.

Of course, I would eventually grow tired of sitting around for so long, so I would get up and walk around. I would pace by the window and watch the people of the Citadel go about their business, or I would clear a space in the living room and practice my Taekwondo, wanting to keep my skills sharp. I welcomed the opportunity to practice, seeing as I currently had no formal studio or school which to go to. Later on, I hoped to learn more about hand-to-hand combat from people in this universe, especially Garrus - _mentioned once that he was in the top 5% of CQC experts in the Hierarchy - _and Shepard - _come on, she's a freaking N7._ I had a feeling that military hand-to-hand would be a valuable addition to my repertoire. For now, however, I occupied myself with repeating what I already knew and exercising in order to stay fit.

It was during one of these sessions that I caught the attention of Aetrius, who had wandered in looking for a space to clean his sidearm and saw me executing a complicated sequence of aerial kicks. I could swear that his eyes bugged out as he muttered, "Spirits, I wish turians were that flexible."

I finished a set of butterfly kicks and landed, turning to face him. "Hey."

"How do you do that?" he asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Practice and natural aptitude. I take it turians aren't naturally agile?"

He shook his head. "The only other person I know that can pull anything like that off is Matriarch Tarlessi, and I'd kind of expect that from her, what with having been a commando for all those centuries."

Naturally, I was curious, so I asked about her story as well as that of Cahern's, the batarian from Special Response.

"I'd recommend that you ask them yourself," Aetrius replied, "they tell it best. I wouldn't want to do either of them disservice."

_Fair enough_, I decided, making a note to do just that. On another note, though... "What exactly did she mean when she said she was a tactical advisor to C-Sec?"

"She's an independent contractor, for starters," Aetrius explained. "so as a freelancer, she can pick whatever jobs she wants. At C-Sec, she holds monthly courses with Special Response, teaching them some lessons and tricks from her service as a commando. As she mentioned, that's how she met Carehn."

A new and unwelcome voice barged in. "Talking about Ol' four-eyes, are we?" Harkin sneered, leaning in the doorway.

Aetrius sighed, trying to be diplomatic. "Shouldn't you be watching the streets, Harkin?"

He waved it off dismissively. "Nothing's out there, boy scout. Scared?"

"Doing my duty." the turian shot back.

Harkin sneered again. "Duty, Shumuty. I'm going out for a smoke. Goodbye."

Aetrius began to speak, but Harkin was already gone.

It was then that I looked around and noticed something out of place. The faint shimmering on the window that would normally indicate that the kinetic barrier was active was gone. Aetrius noticed it too, and started forward.

"What-" he began, and then someone shot him in the head.

* * *

_Sniper!_

I hurled myself to the floor as another shot punched into the wall behind where I had been standing just milliseconds ago. The window in front of me was scarred by two massive bullet holes, and underneath it, Aetrius' body was crumpled on the floor, bleeding profusely from a large hole in the back of his skull. There was no question that he was dead, and the only person I could worry about now was myself.

"Shit!" I swore as a third shot rang out, the unseen shooter clearly angry at having missed. I rolled across the floor until I was in front of the doorway, then twisted around and crawled in the direction of the panic room. I didn't heard any more shots, but I kept low all the same, taking no chances. Making it to the panic room, I slammed my palm into the biometric security panel and tumbled in, the door slamming shut behind me. I sank to the floor, breathing heavily.

_Fuck. That was too close._

After a few seconds of relief, I remembered what I had been told to do in case of an emergency, and I hurried to the infolink in order to fire off an emergency transmission to C-Sec. Once that was done, I sat in the corner and stared blankly at the ceiling. Outwardly, I showed no emotion, but inside, my mind was racing as my body recovered from the sudden surge of adrenaline.

_Someone just tried to assassinate me, and I think it's pretty clear who's behind it. And now Aetrius is dead. Goddamnit._

_What the hell have I gotten myself into? What am I even doing here? Dead in a past life and now being hunted in this one! This is seriously fucked up. _

_Can I really do this?_

_Stop it. _I thought abruptly, giving myself the mental equivalent of a slap. _The more you doubt yourself, the more useless you'll be. Yes, sometimes this is going to suck. Deal with it. _

_Alright. _

After a few minutes, I started as a tone chimed and a light on the door started flashing. It took me a second to remember what it was - it meant that C-Sec had arrived and cleared the lock on their side of the door, and now I had to unlock it on my side. _That was quick. _I thought, surprised.

It was at that point that I did something really stupid. I don't know if some part of my mind was still in shock from what had just happened, or if it was just a simple moment of carelessness, but I went to the door and opened it without checking to see if it was actually C-Sec that was on the other side.

A quick movement. A sharp pain in my abdomen. My body locked up and began convulsing as I fell with a _thud _to the floor.

Dimly, I saw three assailants as they stepped into the room, one of holding a stun gun. I felt hands lifting me up and dragging me out into the hallway. The last thing I registered before I lost consciousness was a set of knuckles headed straight for my face, and then I felt nothing more.

* * *

_A/N: Bit of a short chapter, I know. I'll see if I can't change that next chapter. I mean, three weeks to write this little? Get cracking, Warhammer! Sheesh._

_I'm not sure if I can call myself completely satisfied with this chapter, so any input is appreciated. I may end up revising if necessary._

_Kinetic barriers don't just fail on their own._


End file.
